Recoup
by nohablataco
Summary: Malik gets Jensen and Pritchard to come to her apartment and have a drink. Things get a little crazy. (short silly crack fic)(oneshot)


"So why are we at your apartment, exactly?"

Faridah Malik was in the kitchen, gathering bottles from the fridge. She hummed as two confused yet impatient men stood in her living room, observing her with raised eyebrows. Malik had urged Pritchard and Jensen to come with her after the aftermath with Zao and the Illuminati, only giving them a smirk and a vague description of what's to happen.

Jensen hesitantly agreed, only after copious amounts of persistence from Malik and on his part, consideration. It was a few weeks after the whole Illuminati ordeal that he was confronted about it. He had assumed that Malik was attempting to bring life back to normal after all the events that had occurred, so he had politely declined. He didn't want to rush back into normality just yet. But oh, Faridah persisted. Every time he walked by, she'd mutter things, sometimes audible so that he would be able to hear it. She'd shake her head at him, feigning disappointment with long exaggerated sighs and deepened frowns. One day Sarif had caught on and inquired Jensen about it. When he explained, Sarif insisted that he should go for the sake of his social health.

And so there he was, leaning against the wall of Malik's living room.

Pritchard apparently wasn't as difficult to convince, quite surprisingly. He had been in his lab, working on terminal security protocols when Malik strolled in and leaned against his desk. He had eyes her suspiciously and had started to snap some clever remark about her lack of mental capacity to understand his field of work when she interrupted him with an invitation. He had been taken aback, and Malik confirmed his puzzled silence for a yes, and left before he could say anything else. According to Pritchard, anyway.

And so there he was, on Malik's leather recliner, scrolling through a document on his tablet.

Bottles clinking together, and Malik protruded from the kitchen, holding three bottles of beer. She placed them on the table and plopped herself on the couch. "It's not wine, but hey, it's something."

Pritchard snorted through his nose. "You brought us over to drink?"

Malik started to twist the cap off with her right hand. "Yeah. It's time we sit down and relax. Recoup."

Jensen cocked an eyebrow as he took a bottle from Malik, looking down at it with undisguised confusion. "Uh...Malik, I think-"

"Don't. Just sit down and drink, Jensen. Trust me." Malik gave a bottle to Pritchard, who eyed her but took it with little hesitation.

Jensen sat beside Malik, as that was the only seat available. He made sure he didn't apply too much pressure on the bottle, cautious not to break it with his metal fingers. Pritchard leaned back in the recliner, taking in half the bottle in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Wow, Pritchard. Didn't realize you were a drinker." Jensen commented, taking a swig himself. He had to admit, it felt good to have some kind of alcohol in his system. It relaxed him, even if it was cheap.

Pritchard shrugged. "I'm not. But when I do drink, it's for a good purpose. I feel Malik was right in this idea. Shockingly." He shook his bottle at her, who gave him a cold glare before gulping down hers.

"This is the longest I've been in my apartment. I've been so busy with transport since...you know," Malik looked at Jensen knowingly, who nodded in understanding. "...anyway. How have you been holding up? You and Megan hooking up?"

Jensen shook his head, the rim of the bottle to his lips. He slid back the shades of his vision augmentations, unaccustomed to the brightness of Malik's living room. Especially the evening light that poured in from the windows. "We haven't talked since we spoke with Sarif. I don't imagine it's going to go further than that. Again."

"Ah, sorry to hear that. I'm sure someone will be charmed by your angsty self." Malik teased, chuckling at the straight-faced look that Jensen shot her.

Malik slouched into the couch and crossed her feet on the coffee table. She smirked at Pritchard, who was rolling his eyes at the topic of conversation. "And what about you, Francis? Stole any hearts?"

Pritchard looked flustered for a moment before clearing his throat. "I haven't got time for romance. That's for children... and Malik? Do you have any more bottles?" He wiggled his empty bottle at her.

The trio consumed bottle after bottle of alcohol, lounging there in the living room, talking about everything that was on their minds. The conversation started off light, with talk of old, happy memories of the past or embarrassing stories from high school. Then the conversation transitioned to the sad recollection of past events (mostly from Francis), and Faridah even teared up a little. Later came the hiccups, and it turned out Faridah had numerous cases of beer in her fridge, to Francis' gratification. Francis was overjoyed in his state of drunkenness, and seemed like a completely different person. Faridah was less guarded and swore a lot more than she usually did, and was more giggly and upbeat. Adam even smirked and chuckled a bit.

Francis and Faridah ended up singing enthusiastically together, their arms draped around each other's shoulders. Adam gave them a rather sloppy beat on the coffee table, and was nodding as if he was taking in the very meaning of life through their song. Beer bottles littered the floor along with other curious items: a guitar, an empty whiskey bottle, gum wrappers, and a pizza box.

In the middle of their chorus, Faridah withdrew and gathered Adam and Francis in a group hug, now choking back tears. They gathered together like a basketball team would, bent over and their heads almost touching. Francis was also on the verge of tears, his eyes glassy and his bottom lip trembling. Adam, even in his beyond-wasted state, didn't tear up but fell silent, basking in the strong emotion between them.

"Y-you guys..." Faridah sniffled, "I love you guys...S-s-so much! I know I don't say it enough but I gotta let...let you know, you know?"

Francis nodded enthusiastically, understanding completely. "I feel the s-same."

Adam was in a sort of daze, and fell forwards, face-down on the wooden floor. The snores that escaped from him proved that he the alcohol finally got to him, and fell into a deep sleep. It was so unexpected and random that Francis and Faridah bursted into laughter, and they laughed so hard that they clasped their arms around their stomachs, tears welling up in their eyes.

* * *

Hopefully you guys liked this silly little crack fic. :) I had a lot of fun writing it!


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